


Green fields

by MrsLadyNight



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 05:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19900390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsLadyNight/pseuds/MrsLadyNight
Summary: Yura and Otabek met at a high school and then loved each other. Plisetsky became an international journalist, and Altin became a military translator in the troops of peacekeepers. Very often, their roads intersected, because in the world military conflicts were constantly raging. But they spent all the holidays together. Only once, Otabek did not return from his assignment ... But is everything so unequivocal and tragic?





	Green fields

_Once there were green fields kissed by the Sun,_

_Once there were valleys, where rivers used to run,_

_Once there were blue skies with white clouds high above,_

_Once there were part of an everlasting love._

_We were the lovers who strolled thro' green fields._

_Green fields are gone now, parched by the Sun,_

_Gone from the valleys where rivers used to run,_

_Gone with the cold wind that swept into my heart,_

_Gone with the lovers who let their dreams depart.. *_

... I am standing in our glade, surrounded by mighty oaks, which witnessed at first our games “robbers and pirates”, “hide and seek” and “run and catch”; then - an awkward confession and impossibility to raise our eyes and look at each other, and, finally, our first night together in a sleeping bag under stars, when I became really yours ...

***

... The fire was practically burned out and did not give heat, and only on coals dying fire was still running, looking like snakes and lizards. Fog and cold were crawling from the river. But I was madly hot with your hands, lips and body; from awareness that you loved and wanted me, from the belief that then we would be together forever ...

***

Wherever our destiny would throw us later, no matter how much time we spent, we always at first returned to our oak grove and waited for each other here either at 12.00 in the afternoon or at 18.00 in the evening (so we had agreed before parting so as not to suffer from expectations). We met, hugged each other tightly, and then decided where we would spend our joint holidays.

It was our magical secret place, where all the most cherished, impossible dreams always came true (as I had thought before). I knew for sure, yes, that there, I was just one hundred percent sure that if I came to that grove, everything would be fine, everything would be beautiful. What a naive person I was, because once you did not come either at 12.00 or 18.00, and later I was told that you would never come ...

***

It's been seven years since that message. I was winding around the countries, cities, towns, villages. The countries made friends and quarreled. Military conflicts now flared, then faded. I was in the most dangerous places, I wrote the damn dozen of reports, I received a lot of prestigious journalistic awards. Did I seek death? I did not know, not sure. I just have no one to return to: my mother after the death of her husband, my father, moved to Russia for permanent residence and re-married there, my grandfather died while I was wandering around on business trips, my cat was gone. And then it was time to decide something with the house, since I had been the only heir.

So I came to our provincial town, Green Fields, to meet there a realtor and solve the issue of my house’s selling. But instead of have entered such a familiar from my birth home, breathing in the familiar smell of childhood and adolescence, to see the situation that would help me realize that I finally, after so many years of wandering, had returned to my native hearths, my legs themselves carried me to my grandfather’s grave, and then to our oak grove.

And here I am standing in the middle of the glade, surrounded by ghosts of the happiest memories and crying loudly (but I considered myself an adult, having hardened by frequent view of death, a tough guy). My Lord, for what? For the fact that I then decided everything for both of us and did not listen to you! I fell on my knees into thick green grass that covered me like a raincoat, curled into a ball, and no longer just moaned, but howled like an animal that had lost hope of escaping from snares or some hunter’s trap. And then ... Sometimes it bit its paw off or grind down its teeth on a rope or wire. And what could I do? “I've already done everything and said,” - the brain, gloating and scourging itself, threw flashes of memories of our last in my life, as it turned out later, conversation ...

***

_Where are the green fields that we used to roam?.._

_I'll never know what made you run away._

_How can I keep searching when dark clouds hide the day?_

_I only know there's nothing here for me,_

_Nothing in this wide world left for me to see_

_But I'll keep on waitin' till you return,_

_I'll keep on waitin' until the day you learn._

_You can't be happy while your heart's on the roam,_

_You can't be happy until you bring it home,_

_Home to the green fields and me once again.*_

In the penultimate class of my high school, all the boys, and for some reason they turned out to be much more than girls, turned against me because of my non-standard appearance by their standards. I was thin, flexible, with long golden hair, gathered either in a ponytail or braided into one braid, with eyes - huge and emerald-turquoise, in narrow trousers, in strange T-shirts and sweatshirts. They trapped me in the meadow on the way from the school (from our town that place could not be seen) and ran into a fight. I knew how to do it very well, as I went to some section, but ... there were a lot of them. And such fights were started too often. Bruises and broken lips became my calling card until ... October. And then one day, something swept my offenders in different directions, so much that they then about a week – who was limping, who had a hand in the langette. I was put on my feet, shaken off the dust and said:

\- Come to me, you need to wash yourself and wounds. - I looked up at the savior and froze. Perhaps then I fell in love immediately, but did not realize it.

My savior was called Otabek Altin. He and his family moved to our town from Kazakhstan. His dad was offered a good job related to programming, so he bought a house next to mine. Since September, Otabek began studying in the graduating class in our school. He said that he had paid attention to me because of the unusual color of hair and eyes long before already. He said, he had never seen such people, and only then he realized that for some reason I always walked with bruises and broken lips. Since our lesson schedules did not coincide, he did not have the opportunity to conduct an investigation (as he put it), but that day his physical education lesson was canceled, he lingered a little longer with a French teacher (he took additional lessons) and managed to intervene in the fight when it was at it's peak.

So for the first time I got into his house and met his family. His mother was horrified by my appearance and was trying to call the police, but Altin convinced her not to do that, saying that he would figure it out for himself, because Yura's his friend. I was stunned by that statement. His friend? Well, we had been introduced to each other only about for one hour, but ... at that moment, Otabek’s sister burned my wounds with iodine, and I, dirtied in pain, decided to return to that very interesting moment of our relationship later.

Then we were both called to the table and fed with delicious dinner; I did not know the names of the dishes served during it, but ate them for both cheeks. After the meal, Otabek took my hand and led me to his room. There we were drinking tea with chocolate, shared for two, and chattering about everything: about our families, about school teachers, about plans for the future. It was there that Altin uttered unexpectedly:

\- Will you be my friend or not?

At first I was frozen to the chair, then stretched out my hand and said emphatically: “I will!” - He took my hand in his two and squeezed tight. For some reason, I became incredibly hot, and my heart literally began dancing.

I stayed with Altin till late at night. When I was going to leave, he also got up, threw his jacket over my shoulders and walked me home. My grandfather was sitting on the porch in the chair, our cat, Potya, was lying on his laps. They both were always waiting for my return. In order not to be abused for my so late return and unsightly look by my grandfather, I quickly introduced him to Altin, and the boy swore that he would no longer give me to be offended. Grandpa liked those words, and he firmly shook the hand of my new and only friend.

Since then, we have always and everywhere begun to appear together: we went to and from school, were together during breaks, in the gym, in the cafeteria, in the library, where both spent a lot of time. Altin was going to enter the Military Academy to the faculty of military translators. He’d already perfectly spoken Kazakh (well, of course, because it was his native launguage), Russian, English. He studied French and Spanish with our foreign language teacher. Much later he studied Arabic and Chinese. I confessed to him that I'd like to be both a journalist and a writer at the same time. But I would go to the university to the faculty of journalism, and not to the philological one.

On the second week of our acquaintance, I showed him that glade in an oak grove. And we assigned it to be ours, only for us, a place where we played, just sat and talked, arranged picnics and nights (during vacations).

Altin’s last academic year passed unnoticed by me. It seemed that I had just met him the previous day, but then I congratulated him on his brilliant graduation, and his documents were accepted into the Military Academy. I was upset that he would leave, and I had to study for another year without him. But Otabek promised that he would write and call, and on vacation we would see each other in our grove (it was then that the rule about coming there at a certain time was approved).

Altin left, and I rushed to study and go in for sports. The friend did not deceive: he wrote, and called, and sent photos very often. I answered the same. The only thing I didn’t write about was that I got madly bored and just died without him. On his first vacation after the session Altin returned, as he had promised. We met at 12.00 in the grove, where I had rushed from the morning - to wait for a friend (and if he was a friend?). And there he appeared from behind the trees: in his uniform, beautiful, like hell. He got a little taller than me and resounded in the shoulders.

\- Hello, Yura!

His voice seemed to set fire to the wick in the heart, and then I acted on certain emotions. I rushed to him, wrapped my legs and arms around him and hung on Otabek like a koala on a tree.

\- I‘ve missed you so much. I love you, - I blurted out and pressed my lips to his.

Altin did not push me away, but gently parted my lips with his tongue and deepened the kiss. From surprise (he, however, responded to my kiss), I opened my arms and legs, slid to the ground and wanted to recoil from the guy, but he did not let me go, and, having pressed me harder, whispered in my lips: - I also love you and for a long time already.

How long we had been kissing on that glade, I did not remember. In the brain and in the soul only fleur of heat and passion and the taste of his lips remained. When, finally, we calmed down a bit, then had been sitting for a long time, hugging, and were silent. We were warm, cozy and right.

But ... how short were those vacations. I was sure that we did not have time: neither to kiss, nor to embrace, not to look at each other, or to talk. Otabek promised, as before, to call and write. He always kept promises.

When the summer holidays came he already congratulated me on graduating from school and going to the university. We agreed that as soon as we finished school and earned some money, then we would get married and settle down somewhere: I would write books, and he would translate articles and books. That summer, that hot-crazy summer, I became only his, and he - only mine. Why, well, why not to make a snapshot or a screenshot in my life and stay in one of the most beautiful moments forever?!

It so happened that we studied in the same city and decided to rent an apartment together, where I would live permanently, and Otabek would come for weekends. So I did not really miss him. Our relatives somehow understood everything about us, although we didn’t tell them anything. When mine called, they said hello to Otabek, and his - to me. We were both sent gifts from them.

Altin was the first to wander around on business trips abroad, and soon he was taken as a regular military translator to the troops of the peacekeepers. Then we agreed to meet not in the apartment, but in our native town, in order to see both our relatives and each other. Distances and time bred us farther. I was graduating from the university when Otabek was injured for the first time and, fortunately, a military hospital was located near my university. I spent days and nights in his ward, cooked delicious meals for him, helped him wash and shave.

Later, already my work began to throw me around the globe. But fate was favorable to us, very often we crossed paths at some hot spot. And, covering me by himself in one of African countries, Otabek received the second wound. Again there was the hospital and I in the role of a nurse (I took a leave at my own expense). It was at that time that Altin first spoke about our contract - to settle down and plunge into a peaceful life. But in me fever of fighting and adrenaline, thirst for new and unknown, in short, selfishness sang (as I understood later). It seemed to me that I had visited little elsewhere and not everything that I had wanted, wrote and expressed in reports. That's what I answered my loved one’s question. He sighed heavily and agreed with my point of view.

We were again scattered around the world, leaving only letters, photos and, voice messages. I received the first very prestigious journalistic award and the first wound (after all, Beck was not around at that moment). As they told me later, they had dragged me from the other world with great difficulty. And the first person I saw when I opened my eyes in the chamber lighted with the winter sun was Otabek. He held my hand, called quietly and ... cried. I could not help but respond to my beloved’s call and returned to the world of living persons. I recovered slowly. Otabek (having asked for permission to work in the city and mess around with papers, he explained to me so) nursed me with his presence, faith and love. And then he repeated his proposal again. And I, an idiot, again asked for a little more time for ... And, hell knew what. Altin accepted that too. But ... asked to be his husband and gave a ring. I agreed to this, and we, without telling anyone, were married in a small chapel on the outskirts of the city.

We went to that fucking country together: he was in the diplomatic consulate, I, as a journalist, who was commissioned to elucidate alleged talks of two enmity countries, which were hoping to sit at the negotiating table. At first everything went well, peacefully and calmly. And then ... We woke up because of explosions and gunfire (we rented a room for two, so that we could be together in evenings. For those around us, we were known as “ true brothers.”) Otabek hurried to the consulate, I went to my operators.

The earth was trembling, glass fragments were pouring in, and lumps of stones were fallingl. A suspension of smoke, ash, and dust were hanging in the air. The alarm melody was whining on one note, and over the heads, like awakened displeased bumblebees, helicopters were buzzing. I was hurt for the second time, and I didn’t remember anything else: how they pulled a bullet, how they tied me up, how they took me out. I came to, what irony, in the same ward, only ... alone. At first it didn’t bother me, well, maybe, Otabek was busy, they didn’t let him go, yes, he hadn’t returned yet. No photos, no letters, no sms, no voice messages. And it did not strain me: perhaps, his phone was crashed or even lost.

Then a message came from the house that my father had died. And I hurried to my family, without having bothered even to ask Altin’s chief, where he was. I only got home at a wake, and then I had a conversation with my mother, in which she informed me that she did not want to live alone and was going to Russia to her aunt. My grandfather and I did not dissuade her. Having decided, then, so it was better. I wished her a happy journey and went to the grove. What a fool! I just had to knock at the next house. But I, as in my youth, believed in our meeting agreement, had been going to the grove, as scheduled, for three days. And only then a bad foreboding arose in the depths of my soul, a black worm of doubt was brought in the brain, and I did knock at Altin’s house to be met ... by strangers.

It turned out that while I was undergoing treatment at hospital, a funeral letter arrived in Otabek’s family, which stated that in that military conflict he had been blown up with a mine, so much so that there were neither remains to put in a zinc coffin and send home nor a specific place of death. Altin's mother immediately set a condition to her husband that the house should be sold and they should move closer to the warm ocean. Well, I didn't blame her, everyone coped with their grief in their own way.

I have just frozen from the inside. On the same day, I said goodbye to my grandfather and left to receive a telegram from my neighbors a year later that they had not waited for me and buried the grandfather themselves. It was strange, but I did not receive any reports of his death. Did they confuse my phone number or / and address? (I completely forgot that I myself had changed both the apartment, and the electronics, and the telephone numbers!) However ... I did not even go to the wake, I simply transferred a large sum to their address. Oh, the money I had then. But that's why they were to me then?!

I continued to dangle around the world, receive awards and injuries ... I cut my hair, they said that short haircut suited me. I didn’t care ... I didn’t even want to meet anyone. And men and women ran after me. I did not want anyone. I only needed Otabek. My soul hardened and died with him ...

***

Soon, the sobs subsided, and fatigue and apathy piled on. I lay in the grass with my eyes closed and thought it would be good to fall asleep, freeze and feel nothing more. I even forgot about the arrival of a realtor. I did not care about that world in which he had not existed any more.

Suddenly something warm and very familiar poked into my nose with its cold wet nose. I raised my hand to push a beast, and heard the familiar purr. Potya? But he disappeared after the grandfather’s death, as the same neighbors had told me (they had found the phone number of my editorial board).

I sat in the grass, still not opening my eyes, still not believing my ears, and blindly shooing the cat (that was him!) to my chest. The furry little motor purred stronger and began to lick my face. I was so happy with the cat that I was lost in his caresses, and I did not hear my relative and familiar steps.

\- Yura, sorry! I'm a little late. Why are you going to sell the house, because I and this cat live there?! You have so quickly gone to the grove and have not entered the house that I just did not have time to shout out to you ... You know, now I am not as fast as before ...

And ... I’m having auditory hallucinations. I've gone crazy. I have been so happy to see the cat, that already imagined my beloved’s resurrection of the dead.

But ... a strong hand took me by the elbow and lifted me to my feet, so quickly and abruptly that I snapped my nose into someone's military-style coat. And the world exploded: friendly and such a cozy smell and body’s heat covered me. I opened my eyes. With one hand, I was held by alive Otabek, in the second hand he held a cane and strongly relied on it (after all, then he had to stand on his own feet and hold me). The favorite smiling face to the left of the cheekbone to the forehead crossed a wide scar, the eye was closed, and the second looked at me with the same love and warmth as before. I, still in prostration, reached for a kiss, not letting the cat out of my hands. He muttered displeasedly and came into Altin’s coat, and my Otabec answered my kiss in the same way as then, in our youth.

When we broke off, I whispered, already hugging the man myself: - Are you alive? But how? I was told that ... I did not believe it, but the papers ...

\- Yura, let's go home. You are cold, Potya wants to eat, and I ... cannot walk for long because of my leg.

\- A realtor was supposed to come there, - I mumbled.

\- He came, and I said that you had changed your mind about selling a house. The realtor made a noise that we could have called. But ... then, after purring, he left.

***

At home, at first I was sent into a warm bath, where Otabek came then too and brought two glasses of mulled wine: - We both need to warm up and calm down. I’ve already fed the pet. - He said.

I was sitting in the bath and literally returning to the world of the living ones, sipping hot nectar, and Altin, sitting on a stool, placed near the bath, was telling how it had happened.

***

It turned out that he saw how I was wounded, and, hurrying to help, really hit a mine: he was injured in the cheek and one eye (then he didn’t not see with it, and in order not to frighten people, wore dark glasses in the street), also in his leg (from there and limping, since three pins had been inserted into the bone), and he lost his memory, so for a long time in chaos and confusion, he had been lying in a civilian hospital without documents for almost a year and a half (we had got up in alarm, having thrown both documents and weapons). Someone saw that he was blown up, but the body was not found, so they decided that he was dead. That’d happened and happens often in war. I’ve known about such things!

The memory gradually returned, but in fragments. While he was able to get up and learn to walk again, while he was able to get into the embassy and prove that it was he, and not a messed up spy. His history was checked with passion. So another year went by. When he remembered everything and tried to find me, they already told him that I had been dead. And since by that time I had changed all my past guidelines and did not appear in the country, we were really lost. He decided that if I survived, but I was not looking for him, I’d forgotten and stopped loving.

He also had lost vision due to the entire nervousness in both work and personal life, and he had spent two years in a sanatorium for rehabilitation for those who had returned from zones of military conflicts. So he would have remained to live in that sanatorium (it was allowed if the client was able to pay for himself) if he had not seen me on the news one evening (his sight in the second eye had completely recovered by the beginning of the second year). At first, he thought he was mistaken, because by that time I had already had a short haircut. But then he looked closer, with one eye harder to perceive the world, and recognized the ring he had presented on my finger.

It was then that he came to our town, helped bury my grandfather, found my cat (he was hiding in the attic during a funeral, and then was lying on the owner’s grave like a corpse) and settled in the house, showing everyone who wanted documents that we were spouses, and he had the right to live there.

But Altin was in no hurry to contact me. He found out that I thougth he had died. Maybe I already had someone, because time heals any wounds, including love ones. And he, just like me (I realized that, sitting in the bath), decided to rely on fate, they said, if we were destined to be together, we would be. Well, if - no, then no trial!

***

We had been talking for a long time that day. Altin helped me out of the bath, wrapped me in his bathrobe and led me into the bedroom. There we drank a bottle of brandy with chocolate for two and just went to bed next to each other, having embraced, and then we had a lot of time, all our life for everything else.

***

Five years have passed.

We still live in my house, which has become ours. I write books, Otabek manages translations (everything's happened, as we had wanted. But we had paid too high price for our desire). Our cat brought home a pussy-cat, and now five fluffy lumps are rushing from room to room, from floor to floor, falling under our feet.

Life has become peaceful, simple and clear. But we love it and cherish every moment. Apparently, in order to get used to it, it was necessary to lose the whole world overnight, and then find it in the arms of a single beloved person.

**Author's Note:**

> * The song "Green Fields" was written and performed by the members of the American group Easy Riders - Richard Dehr, Terry Gilkyson and Frank Miller. It was first introduced to the band in 1957 on the Blue Mountain audio album. In 1959, the Easy Riders group fell apart. Their producer Mitch Miller, who was searching for talents for the recording studio Columbia Records, signed a contract with the young American band The Brothers Four. In 1960, The Brothers Four recorded this song and performed with it on the popular TV show Sing With Mitch. This brought fame to the group, and "Green Fields" became a world hit. At the same time, they began to sing the song in different languages, with texts that are as close as possible to the original.


End file.
